in front of the congregation and delivered a beautiful memorial to a sister who had changed her life to look after her and Jamie. It was a relief to hear Lorna speak of Skye’s drive to give her and her brother a future they never would’ve had without her.
I hoped Skye was somewhere listening, finally realizing how much she’d meant to us all. And to the little sister she thought didn’t look up to her anymore. Lorna’s voice broke a few times, but she got through that speech in a way I wasn’t sure I could have.
As Skye was taken away for cremation, a video overhead played clips of her through the years. Photos and home-video shots. The Waterboys’ “The Whole of the Moon” played over the footage.
I wanted to be strong for Jamie. To hold back my tears, but I couldn’t. His grip on my hand tightened and I felt his shoulder shake against mine. I looked at him and saw the tears rolling silently down his face as he stared up at the memorial.
I broke.
Because he was broken.
And I knew it was a wound that would never fully heal.
I couldn’t help him.
So, I just held on tighter and laid my head on his shoulder. He gripped at my arm, keeping me as close as he could as I attempted to absorb some of his grief.
I wanted to offer the same to Lorna. I tried to.
But as I held out my arms to her afterward, she cut me a dark look and brushed past.
Two days later, we took Skye’s ashes to Santa Monica and poured them into the ocean. Lorna threw a fit when Jamie told her I’d be attending the private moment. As though I hadn’t been a part of their family for years. Jamie had no patience for Lorna’s antics normally, so to say he was on a knife’s edge was an understatement.
I’d never heard him roar at anyone the way he roared at Lorna that day.
She burst into tears, apologized to him, and didn’t say another word about me coming.
The three of us said a silent goodbye to Skye.
Lorna never spoke to me again.
So, yes, I was relieved to see her go. My fragile heart could not take the tension between us.
Jamie returned to the house and enveloped me in his arms. He buried his head in my neck, his embrace tight and reassuring—even though I knew it was me he sought the reassurance from.
I kissed his shoulder and caressed his back, trying to soothe him.
After a while, he lifted his head. Beneath the unbearable sadness was a resigned weariness.
The previous night, we’d discussed giving up the house. We couldn’t afford the rent on our own, so we’d need to find a smaller apartment. That meant packing.
Lorna packed up the things she’d left behind when she left for college and still wanted to keep. She said we could donate everything else.
That wasn’t our concern. The concern was that it meant going through Skye’s things and deciding what to keep and what to donate.
Lorna didn’t want to do it, and I didn’t want Jamie to have to do it, so I’d volunteered.
And since I was not looking forward to it, I wanted to get it over with.
“The guys dropped off the boxes.” Jamie pointed to the dining room where I’d already spotted the pile of packing boxes. His teammates had been a huge support to him through this whole nightmare, and I would never forget them for it. “I’ll get started down here.”
The house came furnished, so we didn’t have to worry about moving furniture, just knickknacks and clothing.
“Remember, we need to donate a lot. We won’t be able to take it all with us. I’ll go upstairs and get started.”
Sorrow rippled over his expression before he got control of it. Nodding, he pressed a hard kiss to my lips, murmured a hoarse “thank you,” and moved to the kitchen to get started in there.
Carrying a few boxes upstairs with me, I hesitated outside Skye’s bedroom door.
We hadn’t gone in since we raided her bathroom for clues to her death.
Taking a deep, shuddering breath, I threw back my shoulders and soldiered into the room. Dropping the boxes, I flicked the light switch.
The room smelled like her. Like the Gucci perfume she wore.
Tears clouded my eyes and I took a deep breath, letting out a shaky exhale. Memories of finding her on her bed played over in my head. All the time.